by Ashley Meira
“Good morning.”
“Great morning,” I said. “Well, great night.”
“Thanks for that.” He kissed my lips, then did it again. “Thank you very much.”
“You did most of the work.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” he said in a husky voice. “Seriously.”
“You know,” I said with a content smile. “I considered cuffing you to this bed before you woke up. Still am, actually.”
“Does that mean I need to call my contractor and tell him to draw up plans for our sex dungeon?”
“Our?”
“That wasn’t a no.”
“This bed is so comfortable.” I stretched, not missing the way his eyes roamed my nude body. “I don’t think a dungeon can compare.”
“You should see my bed.”
“Just see?”
He chuckled, arching his back in a stretch. It was my turn to stare — and drool. “Wow. My bones feel like jelly.”
“Right? Never thought not having sex could feel so good.”
“It was sex,” he said. “Kind of.”
I kissed him. “Thank you for…. You know.”
He raised a brow.
“For respecting my wish to wait.” I pinched his butt. “Ass.”
“That is indeed what you just assaulted. Expect to hear from my attorney.”
“Is he cute?”
A loud smack filled the room, followed by my yelp. Adam nipped my lip. “I said I’d spank you.”
“I remember. Gentleman, my ass.”
“That is indeed what I just assaulted. I expect to hear from your attorney.”
I laughed against his neck. “Are you this dumb every morning?”
“No. You ‘not-sexed’ my brains out.”
“Good.” My fingers traced idle patterns against his chest, sliding down to the V of his hips.
“Sophia,” he growled. “What do you want for breakfast?”
My hand froze just above my new favorite body part. “You’re the only man in the world who uses food to stop himself from getting—” I rolled my eyes “—not-laid.”
“Are we going to keep using those terms?”
“If last night hadn’t happened, I’d think you don’t want me.”
“I will always want you.” He kissed me. “Always. And I’d love to stay here all day.”
“But?”
His eyes were sleepy and kind. “You tell me.”
“Symeon will wake up soon, and we need to deal with this necklace murderer,” I said glumly.
“That makes it sound like he kills necklaces.”
“If only.”
“Bacon?” he asked. At my nod, he groaned and wrapped his arms around me. “I don’t want to let go.”
“You could hold me while you cook.”
He sat up, a smile on his lips and a sparkle in his eye. “Really?”
What a dork. “Yes, but I’m going to swipe the bacon.”
“Even if it’s still raw?” he asked, wrinkling his nose.
I threw myself against him. Our skin felt too good together to pull apart. “Big talk from the giant man-eating bird.”
One hand drifted back to my backside. He didn’t spank me this time. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. “I have never eaten a human.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” I reciprocated by grabbing his butt. Mmm. So firm. “Unless the distinct lack of yappy dogs means you’ve eaten Mrs. Worthington’s pomeranians.”
“Don’t think it isn’t tempting,” he said, his irises blowing up as I stretched again. “But not as much as that. Do it again — and don’t stop.”
“I’m not a machine,” I said mid-stretch. “You can’t put me on repeat.”
“Even if I promise to do what I did last night?”
“Maybe you can, but I’m going to need you to pay up front,” I added with a cheeky grin.
His smile was more teeth than ever before. “Gladly.”
We spent another half hour in bed before other hungers pulled us back to the real world. Adam disappointed me for the first time since we met by revealing he was out of bacon, so I was nibbling on a sausage instead. Not bacon, but it was still from a pig.
“I’m pretty sure we’d hear Symeon if he’d woken up,” I said once we’d finished. “But we should check on him, don’t you think?”
“In a minute,” Adam said from behind me. He’d taken my words to heart and hadn’t removed his arms from my waist the entire morning. He used one hand to cook, but the other stayed put, so it still counted. “First, we need to talk.”
I stiffened. “We are talking.”
“Sweetheart,” he said gently, “Snow looks—”
Saved by the bell. Rather, saved by Adam’s phone going off. He sighed and kissed my temple before answering. At least he hadn’t let go.
I couldn’t hear anything from the other side, but Adam seemed very agreeable to whatever his contact was saying. Turning, I wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed his chest. Maybe acting cute and cuddly would make him forget about Snow. Not likely, considering we had the same face.
“That was Jeffery,” he said after hanging up. “The Council called him wondering why Thomas hasn’t checked in. His disappearance is making them nervous.”
“It’s only been a day,” I said. “Give or take.”
“The lead investigator is required to report in daily on dangerous cases — murder and such. Not to the Council, but to their boss. Since Thomas is on the Council, however, they were notified when he didn’t reach out. And Thomas is too rigid to break the rules.”
“If he’s our killer, he’s done more than break rules.”
He squeezed my hip. “With him in charge, they were fine letting normal agents work the case, but now that he’s missing they think the killer might have done something. If he doesn’t make contact again soon, they’re sending Inquisitors.”
Fuck. I knew last night had been too perfect.
“I—” His phone rang again. He mumbled a quick apology and answered. “Pierce.”
He agreed with this caller too, though he seemed more frazzled. I could hear a man on the other end, and he sounded particularly fussy. When Adam saw me staring, he pressed the phone to my ear.
“And don’t forget breakfast,” Symeon drawled. “Caviar. If you don’t have any, ask Ms. Fiona to pay your brother a visit. I know he always keeps some on hand.”
“You literally just woke up,” I said. “How are you already a pain the ass?”
“Sophia, darling! Did Mr. Pierce chicken out and pass me to you? No matter. I called you first, my little savior. Ring and phone. I was beginning to think you were ignoring me.”
I blinked a few times, rubbing my temples. “Don’t you need to breathe?”
“Multitasking is a skill I mastered long ago. Now, caviar and toast. Wheat, please. Then we talk business.” With that, he hung up.
“Like a freakin’ hurricane,” I said, calling Fiona. “Do you have caviar?”
“I think Damien actually dropped some off a while ago.” Adam finally released me. At my whine, he came back and pressed a long, deep kiss to my lips. “I need to make toast for the king.”
“If there’s a hint of charring, he won’t eat it,” I told him. “Trust me.”
“Are you talking about Symeon?” Fiona’s sleep-addled voice said through the phone. “And do you have any idea what time it is? Don’t make me kill you.”
“Symeon is awake and is going to fill us in on ‘business.’ Thought you’d like to join.”
She groaned. “I do. Is there time for breakfast?”
“We have some leftover food here.”
“Gee, thanks. Be there in five.”
“There are nice showers here,” I reminded her. “And your clothes.”
“Be there in two.”
Symeon wrinkled his nose. “You didn’t store this caviar properly.”
Adam shrugged from his bedside perch, his h
and on my knee. “Blame Damien. He didn’t teach me how.”
“I refuse to believe your family didn’t have caviar when you were a child,” Symeon said, placing the tray of food on his nightstand. He sat in bed like a prince, and we surrounded him like loyal subjects. Though I’m sure we were all planning our own separate mutinies.
“I refuse to believe this conversation is taking place.” Fiona was tapping her foot by the window. The curtains were drawn shut, shadows darkening her displeased expression.
Symeon raised a brow and turned to me. “For once, she looks scarier than you.”
“Yeah,” I said dryly, “that bored expression on your face really shows off your terror.”
“Still lacking bite,” he said. “Either you’re happy to see me in this horrid condition, or Mr. Pierce did something to turn that frown upside down.”
Deflect, deflect, deflect. “I can’t believe people still use that saying.”
Fiona eyed me suspiciously. “Talk. First, Symeon. Then, you.”
All right, she was scarier than me. I turned to Symeon. “How are you feeling?”
“Now you ask?” Symeon tsk’d. I still couldn’t tell if he was serious, but I felt bad anyway. “I’m fine. Nothing a little concealer won’t fix. Or a lot of concealer. Or a good cosmetic surgeon.”
“You’re fine,” Adam said. “The healer checked you out and gave you a clean bill of health.”
“I look like I’ve been hit by a car,” Symeon drawled, running a hand through his hair. After getting beat down and spending hours in bed, it still looked flawless. “But there are more important things to discuss. That necklace — have you found it?”
I shook my head. “Is it as bad as you thought?”
“You know me, darling, I’m an optimist.”
“So, worse than you imagined?” Fiona said. She was still grouchy. Apparently, there hadn’t been enough breakfast left over to satisfy her. “You were freaked out when you saw that picture. Or so I heard.”
“The necklace in that photo goes by many names,” Symeon said. “The most common is ‘Tears of the Ocean Queen.’ A misnomer, certainly. I doubt the creature it contains is actually capable of crying.”
I placed my hand over Adam’s on my knee. He turned his hand over to hold mine, his thumb running across my knuckles. Symeon had barely gotten started, and we already knew this story would end badly.
“The diamonds are probably what gave it the tears moniker,” he continued when no one spoke. “I’ve never seen it in person, but the picture matches stories I used to hear as a child. Wives’ tales told by the old folk to scare children — keep them from swimming too far from the colonies. It looks almost exactly as I had imagined it. A testament to my fine eye, I’m sure.”
When we didn’t react, he rolled his eyes. “Not morning people, are you?”
“I’ve seen you first thing in the morning,” Adam said.
I turned slowly. “When? How? Why?”
“He’s one of the most popular guests at my soirees—”
“Quiet,” Adam said immediately. “That’s not true. I’ve never been to one of your parties.” After suffering under my withering glare for a few seconds, he finally said, “I was there to drag Damien home.”
Fiona gasped. “Damien Pierce attends your orgies?”
“Just the one,” Symeon said. “I think big brother kept him from coming back.”
“I’m sure it had nothing to do with the chicken I saw roaming around the sleeping bodies,” Adam said dryly.
He shrugged. “It didn’t bother him the night before.”
“Stop,” I said. “No more details. On that, I mean. More details on the necklace.”
“It’s magical, obviously,” he said, shooting Adam one last smug look. “The necklace is purported to contain a fragment of Seraphine’s soul. Another misnomer, if the tales are to be believed.”
“She has no soul?” Fiona asked.
“Apparently, she does — and part of it is locked in that necklace.”
“Who is Seraphine?” I asked, dread crawling up my spine. Symeon’s penchant for blathering on felt like torture at the moment.
Symeon straightened his blankets. “According to legends, she was a great and terrible sea witch. Her power was such that the merest flicker of her hand could cause tidal waves to eradicate entire cities. She ruled the oceans with a cruel grip. Hence her title ‘the Ocean Queen.’”
“How’d she end up in a necklace?” Adam asked while Fiona and I soaked in the information.
“Part of her,” Symeon reminded. “I’m told there are earrings and a bracelet to match, though you don’t need all four pieces to set her free. One will do. She’ll simply be in a weakened state until they’re all unlocked.”
I’d known it was coming. What else could it be? People didn’t kill for an item like that just to place it in a display, no matter how crazy they were.
“More,” I whispered, squeezing Adam’s hand.
“I don’t know how or why she was sealed,” Symeon continued. “There are plenty of rumors. She angered a more powerful creature, or her dark appetites got the better of her…. The stories are wide and varied. But she was sealed, and the artifacts were entrusted to the denizens of the deep. One tribe, one piece, one of the four corners of the globe.”
Fiona frowned. “How the hell did Sandra’s family get their hands on it?”
“I don’t know,” Symeon said. “My colony wasn’t tasked with protecting any of the pieces.”
Adam sighed, and it felt like a curtain falling over us. “You said she was a sea witch. Nereid, siren…?”
“Worried about making Sophia jealous again?” Symeon asked smugly. He became much more cooperative once I curled my finger and summoned my sword. “Not a siren. That would have been a saucy topic among my family, I can assure you. Whether she is a nereid or something else is a mystery.”
“So, whoever’s been killing people is after the necklace to summon Seraphine,” Fiona said.
“Anyone can make it sound plain,” Symeon drawled. “That’s why I tell the stories.”
“Do you think they’ve already done it?” I asked. Another enemy was not what we needed right now. We just had our asses kicked by my twin, and I doubted she was as powerful as Seraphine.
“We’d have heard about it if they had.” Symeon paused, then sighed. “Even with just a piece, the magical shockwave from the ritual to summon Seraphine will cause a tidal wave powerful enough to destroy any cities nearby.”
The universe was really driving this point in, wasn’t it? I was already well aware that horrible situations could get worse, no matter how low we fell. I didn’t need a tidal wave to crash over my head, thank you very much.
“Why do I feel like you’re saving the worst for last?” I said, all but collapsing against Adam.
“Because you know me so well, darling. And you’re absolutely—”
“Hit on her later,” Fiona said, marching over to the bed. “What could be worse than a giant tidal wave destroying everything? And don’t sass me!”
Symeon pursed his lips, probably biting back a sassy reply. “‘Blood and spirit of the kin shall awaken—’” he waved a hand. “I forget. Basically, the ritual requires a large amount of sacrifices. Magical sea life, specifically. Like me.”
“And Adrienne,” I whispered. “She could still be alive.”
Good thing I was pressed against Adam, because my spine turned to mush at the realization. The killer could be saving her as a sacrifice. It wasn’t a happy thought, but it was better than the alternative. We still had time, though I doubted much was left.
“And—” Symeon cleared his throat “—it just so happens that there is a large community of such sea life not too far from here. Along with a small abandoned island for you land-loving folk.”
“You’re land-loving folk,” I pointed out.
“That’s a personal choice. I can go either way.”
“You go every way.”
“Ah,” he said with a pleased smile. “There’s that acerbic wit. Welcome back, dear.”
“There are no islands off the coast of Santa Fae,” Adam said. “They’re all farther south.”
“It’s hidden by magic.”
“The Council has no listed islands—”
“Of course not. It’s hidden by ocean magic, Mr. Pierce,” Symeon said. “Used by the sea folk for rituals where land is required. They aren’t going to report it to the Council and be placed on some list.”
Maybe I could live with them if I ever got discovered.
“You think that’s where the killer would go to perform the ritual?” Fiona asked.
He gave us a half-nod. “I think that’s your best bet. The ritual must be performed on water, and since that’s where the sacrifices can be collected…. If I were the killer, I wouldn’t want to carry such contraband around any longer than needed. That necklace isn’t very pleasant to be around. I imagine the protective cases used to preserve artifacts are what kept it from affecting Sandra’s family.”
Adam pulled out his phone. “It’s a start. We can use my family’s teleportation gem to get there quickly, but it won’t be recharged in time to bring us back.”
Teleportation gems were rare. Apart from the Gem of Anathasia, which I’d technically stolen, only Council families possessed them, and even they were limited to one per family.
Symeon quirked a brow. “The magic hiding the island has a barrier built in. Your gem won’t be able to pass through it.”
Unlike the Gem of Anathasia. As far as I knew, the Fireborn relic currently hidden in my bag was the only gem in existence that allowed the user to teleport anywhere they wanted — through any barrier — as long as they had enough magic. That wasn’t the only difference between it and regular gems. Normal gems used the magic contained within themselves, which recharged naturally. The Gem of Anathasia could be used as often as the mage wanted, so long as they had the magic to feed it. Which made it perfect for Fireborns, who could absorb as much magic as they needed.
“If the only people who have access to the island are the ocean dwellers, then we should ask them,” Fiona said. “Do you know them, Symeon? Are they friendly?”
